Why is a Raven Like a Writing Desk?
by ceitean
Summary: Wherein Sharon is scarred for life, Alice wants to get back to her meat, Gil has back pains, and Break is vastly entertained.


"Oh, my," said Miss Sharon as she hastily closed the side door after peeking inside to check on Master Oz and Gilbert.

Break glanced up from his (boring) paperwork and peered at his lady. Miss Sharon stood in front of the door, her hands nervously smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in her skirts. Break watched for the appearance of a flying harisen, but no fan of death appeared.

"What is it," Alice said around a mouthful of chicken leg.

"Oh, oh, nothing at all!" Miss Sharon stopped pressing her dress and locked her hands tightly in front of her in a demure, ladylike pose. She forced a smile for Alice.

Break could see her blush from across the room.

"Is there anything the matter with Master Oz and Mister Gilbert?" said Break. He leaned forward and rested his chin on his hand.

There was a beat of silence. "No, of course not." The blush was getting brighter, Break noted. "Why would anything be the matter?"

"Hmm." Break looked down at the stack of papers Liam had shoved at him that morning. He nudged them out of view; this promised be far more entertaining.

"Hey, haven't they been in there for a while?" Alice asked with a frown. She looked from the meat in her hands to the side door, her frown deepening.

"Maybe we should see what young master Oz and his dear servant are getting up to," Break suggested brightly as he abandoned his paperwork (Liam would understand) and made for the closed door. Alice waited a moment, undecided, then tore off a last bite of her chicken and followed Break across the room.

"Oh – no, now really, Break, I don't think there's any need for that – ," Miss Sharon said as she tried to stop Alice and Break from coming any closer to the door. But before Break could even get his hand on the knob, a very loud sound echoed out from the other room.

A kind of…grunting sound.

They stared at the door. "Was that the seaweed head?" Alice asked. Miss Sharon stood ramrod straight as she stared past her companions, her back still pressed against the closed door. More muffled sounds came from the room beyond.

In a second, Break and Alice had their ears pressed against the wood, Miss Sharon squished and squirming between them. Break reached up to press a finger to his lady's lips as Emily whispered, "Shhh."

In the quiet, they listened.

"…master, I don't think I'm going to be able to walk after this."

"Don't be silly, Gil, of course you'll be able to walk," came Oz's voice. "Now, just hold still…"

Another grunting sound. "Unf!"

Miss Sharon flinched. Alice stared at the door in confusion.

"Damnit, I think it ripped."

"It what?! Ow!"

"I said hold still! Here, let me – ," more grunting sounds.

Break turned his head and waggled his eyebrow suggestively at Emily.

"I think you're going to have to spread your legs wider, Gil," said Oz. "You're too high off the ground."

"What are they doing? And why are we just standing here?" Alice asked abruptly. "Hey, SEAWEED HEAD," she called as she reached for the knob and pushed opened the door despite Miss Sharon's (lady-like) flailing. They stumbled all over each other, falling into the room with a loud crash.

Inside were Master Oz and Gilbert, as expected. Only Gilbert was kneeling on his hands and knees in the middle of the mostly bare room, with Oz leaning over behind him. They both looked up in surprise.

"What are you doing in here?!" said Gilbert from his position on the floor. Break assisted his lady up as Alice bristled at Gilbert.

"What are *you* doing, making all that racket!" said Alice.

"That's none of your – ow, ow!" Gilbert broke off as he tried to kneel up. He held the small of his back and winced in pain.

"I hope we're not – interrupting…anything…" Miss Sharon trailed off in mortification.

"Oh, not at all," Oz smiled. "I'm just writing a letter to Uncle Oscar," he said. And in fact there was a pen in Oz's hand and a small stack of papers falling from Gilbert's back to the floor. Break and Sharon stared at Oz and then down at Gilbert, who glared at them with cheeks as bright as a certain Baskerville's hair do.

"What, is that all?" Alice huffed out, breaking the silence. She shook her head and stalked back to the main room, muttering all the way about useless servants who keep distracting her from her delicious meat.

"Surely, Master Oz, you could have called for a desk to be brought up by the staff?" Break asked in perverse reasonableness.

"Most of the house servants are dealing with the renovations in the east wing, and I wanted the letter to go out with today's mail – this way was much quicker," said Oz. He picked up the scattered papers and shuffled them back in order, a bright smile still on his face. Gilbert glared at a corner and refused to look anyone in the eye.

"But," said Miss Sharon, with the air of one who stood on the edge of a dark, fathomless abyss. Break admired her courage. "But why would you use _Gilbert's back_ as a writing desk?"

Oz's head tilted to the side. "Why wouldn't I?"

"…I see. I think I'm going to go make a pot of tea," she announced abruptly to the room in general, "If you'll excuse me," and with that she fled the room as fast as her poofy skirts let her.

Break followed Miss Sharon to the door, but stopped and turned back to say, "I know staying inside Pandora these last few days has been very frustrating for you. But rest assured – we'll be able to go out and pound the pavement very soon." Oz nodded, pleased.

"That is," Break continued, "if you're not too busy pounding your table."

Gilbert gargled.

Break smiled brightly and shut the door on Gilbert having an apoplexy.

So much more fun than paperwork.

Fin.

_Why is a Raven like a writing desk?  
Because Oz says so._


End file.
